


house lines

by incandescent (lmeden)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Fluff, Gen, M/M, Mostly Gen, No war, Nostalgia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-26
Updated: 2018-02-26
Packaged: 2019-03-24 04:00:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,535
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13802958
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lmeden/pseuds/incandescent
Summary: There is no war.For an AU drabble challenge at getyourwordsout.





	house lines

“—and then,” Theo paused, sucking in a great breath and visibly preparing himself before launching onward, “and then Longbottom said ‘ _There are no more mandrakes_ ’!” 

He barely got the last word out. Nearly falling over laughing, Theo clutched his sides. Pansy’s cackle echoed over the lake and even Draco had to smile. It wasn’t a half bad joke, all thing considered.

The afternoon was bright and the sunlight warm, and there was only one day left of NEWTs. The exams had ended early enough today to leave them free for the long afternoon, and it seemed like the whole of seventh year had turned out onto the Hogwarts lawn to celebrate the nearing of term’s end. The promise of the future sat warm within them.

Yesterday had been Draco’s birthday, and he felt he was still working off last night’s drinks. His body was loose and carefree, the firewhiskey warm in his muscles, and though he knew he’d probably buggered his Defense NEWT this morning, he wasn’t too worried. The only NEWT worth less was Muggle Studies, after all; Draco had taken Defense on a whim. His parents didn’t care. He was off to the Ministry after graduation to intern with the undersecretary of the Department of International Magical Cooperation, and it wasn’t as if Defense scores would do him much good in the diplomatic circles. 

Pansy leaned against him, laughter ebbing away as she grinned up at Theo; her boyfriend, meanwhile, was too caught up in his own joke to smile back. Draco pushed himself up to sit upright and she felt away from him, robes twisting round her long legs.

“I don’t get it,” Vince grumbled from Draco’s other side. 

“I _do_ ,” Greg whispered, wonder in his tone. 

Draco leaned over to share a smile with him when a voice from behind made him jump. 

“Having a good laugh, Nott?”

Longbottom had caught them all unaware – a difficult feat considering he was the tallest boy in their year. He’d folded his across his chest and his shoulders were hard, but his lips twisted into a smile. Draco spared a quick glance for Granger and Potter, who had come along with him. Theo grinned back and spread his arms.

“You have to admit,” he said. “Even the examiners had to hide their smiles.”

“Yeah,” Longbottom said, spots of color rising on his cheeks, “I guess they did.”

He unfolded his arms and walked over, flinging himself to the ground on the other side of Greg. Granger came down and sat carefully beside him, tucking her robes beneath her legs and rummaging in her bag. She pulled out a book and spread it across her knees. With a flick of her wand a quill sprung to the ready.

“You know,” Draco told Longbottom, “I was very impressed with your demonstration of the Patronus charm this morning.”

Longbottom leaned forward and put him chin in his hands. “Why Malfoy, is that flattery? Don’t think I don’t know what you’re doing there. Another month and you’re off to the Ministry to charm your way into obscene wealth and eternal fame.” He stopped and pointed an accusing finger at Draco, who blinked blandly in return. “Well, you won’t find me to be such an easy victim. I’ll need to be _wooed_ , if you want anything out of me.” He leaned back, studiously aloof. 

Draco laughed despite himself. “Not sure I want to know what that means,” he drawled. Still standing, Potter rolled his eyes and grinned down at Longbottom. He shifted and glanced to Granger, then out over the Lake.

“Darling,” Pansy whispered, and Theo went to sit beside her. He pushed her dark hair back and Draco looked away from them both. 

Granger’s quill was already furiously spilling out notes and her lips moved silently as she read. Longbottom had leaned close to Vince and Greg and told them something that made their eyes grow progressively wider.

“I’ll leave you to it,” Potter said at last. “Since you all seem to want to waste the afternoon laying around.”

He shifted and turned away as Longbottom groaned, “Spoilsport.” Granger’s eyes snapped up from her book and fixed on him, unerringly accusing. Draco shuddered in sympathy. 

“ _You_ should be studying for Potions tomorrow,” she said primly. “You know you’re shite at it.”

Potter’s brows rose. “Thanks, Hermione,” he said drily. “All the same.” His gaze lifted again. Toward the sky.

“Going flying?” Draco asked him. He stood and shook out his robes, spelling them clean and stepping toward Potter. 

Potter was notorious for being over the pitch at all hours of the day, practising his maneuvers late into the evening, long past the time when flying grew dangerous. Draco privately thought his hair was such a mess because he’d flown so often it had become fixed into place.

Potter glanced over, an instant of verdant green flashing toward Draco before he looked back to the sky. “It’s a beautiful afternoon,” he said. 

“You’re obsessed,” Draco told him, stepping around the others and moving close enough that their shoulders nearly brushed. “Quidditch is done for the term. Try relaxing for once.”

“You used to love flying.”

Draco shrugged. Sometime in sixth year he’d fallen out of love – or maybe that was too dramatic. His passion for flying had faded slowly, Quidditch practise after Quidditch practise, so that one day he’d been up on his broom watching Potter flash by, red and gold whizzing across his vision, and found that he didn’t care who caught the snitch first. 

“I like flying,” he said. “But no one loves it as much as you, Potter. Going to go professional?”

This time it was Potter’s turn to shrug. “Maybe. Dad thinks I should go into the Auror program but I haven’t decided. Mum says I should live my own life.” He didn’t sound convinced by either option.

He certainly had the talent for the Aurors, Draco thought, running his eyes over Potter’s form. He’d taken off his robes and slung them over his arm, and wore a pair of dark Muggle jeans and a dark green shirt with the Harpies logo stitched in gold across the front. He was fit. And while Draco hadn’t seen his performance during the NEWTs examinations, he knew Potter had always been the top of their Defense classes. He’d be a good Auror, if only he could take his eyes off the sky. 

“When will you know,” Draco began, because he was still warm inside, and the burn of firewhiskey clung to the tip of his tongue, “what you want?”

“The day I walk into the Ministry to apply for the Auror programme, I suppose.” There was a dryness to Potter’s tone that suggested he knew just what his answer would be in the end, but wasn’t saying yet. 

Draco shifted. He followed Potter’s gaze out over the dark water of the Lake, a perfect mirror reflecting the sky. A tentacle lifted from it, curling briefly before vanishing again. Ripples spread across the surface, shattering the reflection and racing toward them. 

“Did you ever think we would be here?” Draco asked suddenly. The words had burst from him. Potter looked over questioningly and Draco said, “I mean, just a few weeks from graduation and thinking about what we’re going to do with the rest of our lives. Sometimes I thought we would never make this far.”

All those years of study: staying up late to master spells that he would later mutter in his sleep, getting up early for Quidditch, curling up next to the fire in the common room with exhaustion dragging down his limbs, filling parchment after parchment – entire _forest’s_ worth of paper – with words he’d just shoved down to the bottom of his trunk once they were graded, and here they were at last. They were on the edge of something, teetering and fragile. The final dregs of the firewhiskey burned away at that thought, and Draco realized he was afraid of what came next. 

Warmth enfolded his hand and Draco jumped, looked down at Potter’s fingers laced through his, startlingly warm and rough with calluses. 

“You know,” Potter said without looking at him. “I thought, on that first night, looking up from our boats in the Lake, that this was something grand and enormous. That our Houses were the most important thing in the world, and Quidditch the most amazing, and that I would never see anything as beautiful as Hogwarts.” He paused. “I was wrong. None of that mattered at all. We all worked so hard, and now we’re about to go and find all the things more beautiful and important in the world – even more than Hogwarts.” 

His fingers twisted tight around Draco’s, whose breath caught in his chest. 

“Yeah,” he said, for all his diplomatic words were gone. He shifted close enough to lean his head on Potter’s shoulder, feel the warmth of the man next to him. He thought that if he tried hard enough he might capture this moment in amber, stop time so that he wouldn’t have to leave it behind. The murmurs of other conversations spread around him, and the gentle whisper of the water. 

“That sounds brilliant.”


End file.
